


Lena's Fixation on Djibouti

by FlawedVictori



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7538242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlawedVictori/pseuds/FlawedVictori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remember that time Lena got distracted staring at a particularly good butt during a battle and it changed her entire life?</p>
<p>Kind of a silly fic, but it's pretty entertaining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s kinda silly, but I love this ship, so… yknow. If this does well, I’ll probably write more Overwatch stuff. (It’s slightly auish? But mostly canon. Ish.)

Tracer zips throughout the battlefield, taking potshots at whatever enemies she spots as she goes.

Sure, _normally_ she’d be trying to get a bit more than the occasional legshot… but, she had a job to do.

There was some sniper causing trouble for everyone, and her unique abilities cast her as the best gal to stop them.

So, after a bit of running around and waiting to get shot at to help pin down their position (Really, excellent plan HQ. Glad to know you’re lookin out), she zipped up the side of the nearest building and put operation Flank em and Spank em into effect.

But… there was a slight complication.

She came to a screeching halt behind the target… and stared.

She couldn’t help it.

It was just… perfect. Shapely, plump, and-

And flexing?

She took just a moment too long connecting the dots, and the one with the gorgeous ass capitalized on that, swinging around, hooking a leg around her neck and taking her down to the ground, trapping Lena’s neck between her thigh and her calf as she crouched down and slowly lined up her next shot.

Lena didn’t even notice the shot ringing out, as she was a bit preoccupied with trying to decide whether to breathe and survive, or let herself suffocate and have the most bitching tombstone ever.

(Un)Fortunately “Here lies Lena, strangled by fantastic thighs” was never etched into anything, because the one with the amazing ass eased up on her windpipe, allowing her to get some much-needed air.

And letting her get a good look at who, exactly, she’d been pinned by.

“You?” She asked, blinking.

Widowmaker mutters something in French, and Lena-Tracer, she has to be Tracer, now, not Lena the uncomfortably turned-on lesbian, Tracer, the quick-witted badass, screws up her nose a bit.

“Yeah? Well, ‘murd oooblieyay man makwilahge’ to you, too.”

Widowmaker just scoffs and turns her attention back to the battlefield, pressing down on her windpipe again, though Tracer notices it’s a good bit gentler this time.

She doesn’t really feel like she’s gonna suffocate, which is a plus.

Now she just needs a way out of here that doesn’t involve a body bag.

“So…” She says, and Widowmaker tightens the hold, cutting off all oxygen for a long moment as she lines another shot up.

She loosens the hold as she fires, and Tracer gasps for air.

“Silence, chérie.” Widowmaker admonishes. “I have to concentrate. Two more kills, and I’ll speak with you.”

“Hey, you-” Tracer starts, and white dots appear in her vision as pain shoots through her throat and she feels her airway close entirely.

Widowmaker eases up much faster this time, but Tracer has to spend much more time gasping for air before her mind quits telling her she’s dying.

It takes her a few more moments to notice Widowmaker hasn’t fired a single shot.

She looks up at her… and catches the supposedly emotionless sniper looking down at her with unmistakable worry on her face.

Widowmaker bites down on a full, wonderfully plump, kissable lip, (That’s gay, Lena) and returns her vision to the battlefield.

The two shots come much quicker, with none of the preparation she’d been using earlier, and then she’s looking down at her, and Lena has nothing to say.

Well, she could ask her to go out for drinks, but she’s pretty sure chatting up the enemy was against some kind of regulation.

Not that she couldn’t go for a quick boffing, but she was more looking for a relationship at the moment, and also this was a woman who she’d seen kill without any remorse, so amazing body or no, she couldn’t just decide to have it off with her.

But she could _think_ about it.

Widowmaker’s eyes narrow slightly, and Lena can’t help but wonder if she can read minds… or if her face is just being a bit too expressive.

“ _Leave_ , chérie.” She says, looking directly into Lena’s eyes as she stands, taking the pressure entirely off her neck. “Quickly, and I won’t shoot you in the back.”

“I’m always quick, love.” Lena says without thinking.

There’s a long silence, and then she runs, setting what she’s pretty sure is a new speed record, even for her.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“So, what did you do?” Hana asked, stretching a bit before pulling at her bodysuit.

Lena noticed her eyes wandering a bit, and promptly forced them to meet Hana’s.

No matter how fit she was, the kid was still only nineteen.

“I legged it.” She said, shrugging and blowing a bit of hair out of her eye. “I’m sharp enough to tell when someone’s got my number.”

“And you wanted to get her number.” Hana says, nodding. “Right, I understand.”

“Listen here, you little ankle biter-” Lena starts, grinning, but D. Va, true to her name, just rolled her eyes and started walking off.

“C'mon, grandma, I don’t have time for all this. Gotta tell you your job for the day, get in the suit and get ready to have some fun.”

Tracer follows behind her, muttering under her breath about how she was being bossed around by a six year old.

/

“And here…” D. Va said, stopping in her path and turning around to shoot Tracer a wide grin. “Is what you’ll be doing today!”

Toned, flawless muscle, barely hidden behind skintight clothing.

A small part of her consciousness points out that she really shouldn’t be staring, but the rest of her is just in awe.

She’s not sure what the singlet “covering” the sniper is made of, but she sorely wishes it was just a bit more sheer.

D. Va throws an elbow into her side, and she takes her eyes off the most glorious of glorious bums just in time for Widowmaker to turn to them.

She can’t help but whimper a bit when she spots the light coat of her favorite shade of purple on those gorgeous, full lips.

There’s a long moment where she just stares, with Widowmaker looking wonderfully disinterested, that ends when D. Va coughs into her hand.

Tracer turns to her to see her holding a datapad with what’s presumably her orders on it.

“Right, uh… apparently we’re giving you the chance to be a slightly more useful lesbian than normal. Your orders are to keep an eye on our, uh…” She glancs at Widowmaker. “ 'Temporary _ass_ et’, and watch her back while she snipes, shoot her in the back if she decides to betray us, blah blah blah.” She shoots Tracer a small grin.

“So… keep your eye on your surroundings, not her, okay? I’ll see you in-game!” She gives a cheery little wave and dashes off.

Tracer stares after her for a long moment, until she feels breath on her neck, and a voice speaks up in her ear.

“It seems we’re working together, chérie. I hope I’m in good hands.”

Tracer just licks her suddenly all-too-dry lips and gives a quick nod. “Y-yeah. Let’s… get to work?”

Widowmaker nods, her lips curling into a small smile. “Yes… you know what they say  about idle hands.”

Tracer manages to avoid whimpering again, but just barely… but something about Widowmaker’s smile tells her she knew exactly how hard it had been.

/

The day’s mission goes surprisingly well, the two working together fairly well, and before to long Tracer begins to have thoughts about taking her partner out to eat with the day’s pay.

But… unfortunately, she doesn’t get the chance.

When she goes to pick up her check for the day, Widowmaker has already picked hers up, and disappeared without a trace.

But… she’s not too worried.

After all, they’re sure to meet again, on some battlefield or another.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this one draws to a close. 
> 
> Though I guess there could be more to fit in this au? Lemme know what you guys think.

To Lena’s surprise, she never “met up” with Widowmaker on a battlefield again.

There were several months where they went without any contact, but each time she had a mission, a small part of her hoped to see her again.

But… it never happened. She tried not to let it get her down, telling herself that, when she wanted to be found, she’d find her again… but, as the months dragged on, she started wondering if Widowmaker ever would actually want to be found.

But, she’d never been the type to let things keep her down, so… she didn’t.

She spent time on the pull, finding a few girls here and there.

Sure, usually it was just for a night, maybe a weekend, but it was fun.

Oddly enough, it was after one of said nights of fun that she found what she hadn’t known she was looking for.

/

After the bird she’d spent the night making sing decided it was time for her to leave the nest, she wound up going for a little jog.

After all, she’d walked to the pub the night before, so it wasn’t like she could just magic up a ride home, and she hadn’t felt much like calling a taxi, so… she went jogging.

It always helped to clear her head, and it made everything feel much more vibrant, more clear.

Though, even months of jogging hadn’t done much to clear her mind of Widowmaker.

She just didn’t get it. Why was she so… why did every thought lead back to her?

Why couldn’t she get the image of those lips out of her mind?

Why was it that, no matter who she spent the night with, she always heard her voice in her dreams?

Before she knew it, her light jog had turned into an anger-fueled sprint as she pushed her body to its limit.

/

At some point, long after her muscles had started to burn and her breath had turned ragged, she noticed it was raining.

She just ran harder, ignoring her body’s pleas for her to stop.

/

At some point, after the afternoon shower has turned into a rainy night, she staggers through the door of some trashy fast food place, intent on getting three of the biggest, greasiest burger there and then directions back to her particular neck of the woods.

She’s not quite sure when she’d crossed into parts of town she didn’t recognize, but she knows the walk back is going to be a right bitch.

She’s soaked, in incredible pain, and she realized twenty minutes ago when she finally broke out of her funk that she left her phone at… whatever her name was’ house.

“Cherie?” A voice asks, strangely lacking it’s usual sultriness, and she ignores it.

She’s way too used to hearing it by now, there’s no way it could even affect her.

There’s a hand on her shoulder, and she turns, slowly, to see a face she’d seen in her dreams for months looking back at her, a small smile on plump, perfectly-painted, pursed purple lips.

“You know, chérie, you’re a surprisingly hard woman to find… when you’re not running through the city.” She says, smiling a bit wider. “Now… would you like a ride home?”

“Lena.” She manages, once the shock recedes a bit. “My name is Lena. Are we going to your place, or mine?”

Widowmaker shakes her head… and speaks.

“Amélie.”

Lena smiles, and offers her arm to Amélie.

Amélie just rolls her eyes… but takes it, leading her out to the car… and to their future.


End file.
